Television Review: Plato's Stepchildren (Star Trek, S3X12, 1968)

Plato’s Stepchildren (S03E12)

Airdate: November 22nd 1968

Written by: Meyer Dolinsky
Directed by: David Alexander

Running Time: 50 minutes

The original Star Trek series, which aired from 1966 to 1969, occupies a singular position in television history. Beyond its role as the progenitor of a sprawling multimedia empire, the show was a bold experiment in using speculative fiction to confront the social and political tensions of its era. At a time when the United States grappled with civil rights struggles, the Vietnam War, and shifting gender norms, Gene Roddenberry’s creation dared to imagine a future where humanity had transcended prejudice and tribalism. Nowhere was this ambition more palpable than in Plato’s Stepchildren, an episode whose cultural legacy is both profound and paradoxical. While the installment is now best remembered for featuring what is often cited as the first interracial kiss on American network television—a moment so iconic it got its own Wikipedia entry—it remains a curiously divisive work among hardcore Star Trek fans. This duality reflects broader tensions within the episode itself: a collision between the show’s utopian ideals and the constraints of its production, between progressive messaging and regressive narrative choices, and between historical significance and artistic mediocrity.

Plato’s Stepchildren opens with the USS Enterprise responding to a distress signal from a planet inhabited by the Platonians, a race of humanoid aliens who fled their dying world millennia ago. Seeking refuge on Earth during the Classical Greek era, they adopted the teachings of Plato, particularly the concept of the “philosopher-king.” Now a reclusive society of eugenicists, the Platonians have extended their lifespans and sculpted their appearances to conform to Hellenic ideals of beauty. Upon beaming down, Captain Kirk, Spock, and Dr. McCoy discover that their host, the tyrannical Parmen (played by Liam Sullivan), is suffering from a psychokinetic breakdown. His telekinetic outbursts—triggered by a treatable infection—threaten to destabilise the fragile Platonian order. While McCoy cures Parmen’s physical ailment, the crew soon realizes the deeper problem: the Platonians’ psychokinetic powers, derived from a substance called kironide, have rendered them capricious and sadistic. When the Enterprise team attempts to leave, the Platonians enslave them, using their abilities to force Kirk, Spock, and the dwarf Alexander (Michael Dunn) into humiliating spectacles. The stakes escalate further when Uhura and Chapel are beamed down, subjected to the same grotesque manipulations. The crew’s eventual liberation hinges on McCoy’s discovery of kironide’s properties, which he uses to grant Kirk and Spock temporary psychic resistance. Their escape, aided by the outcast Alexander, culminates in a moral reckoning for the Platonians, who are denied their “toys” and left to face galactic ostracization.

The episode’s most enduring legacy—the kiss between Captain Kirk (William Shatner) and Uhura (Nichelle Nichols)—epitomizes Star Trek’s pioneering spirit. Broadcast in 1968, a mere year after the Supreme Court’s landmark Loving v. Virginia ruling struck down antimiscegenation laws, the scene was a radical act of representation. For many viewers, it was their first encounter with an interracial romance on prime-time television, a medium then dominated by the conservative sensibilities of Southern broadcasters and sponsors. Roddenberry, ever the provocateur, had already defied industry norms by casting Nichols in a position of authority—a rare feat for Black women in 1960s Hollywood. The kiss, however, was not without controversy. Production records reveal that NBC executives pressured the cast and crew to film an alternate version in which the scene was obscured by darkness or camera angles, fearing backlash from racist audiences. Shatner and Nichols famously subverted this demand by intentionally botching the alternative takes, ensuring the authentic moment aired. For contemporary audiences, the kiss’s revolutionary impact has been somewhat diluted by decades of progress in on-screen diversity. Yet its inclusion in Plato’s Stepchildren—an episode otherwise mired in narrative inconsistencies and tonal dissonance—remains a testament to Star Trek’s commitment to social critique.

If the kiss represents the episode’s high point, its execution elsewhere exposes significant weaknesses. Scripted by Meyer Dolinsky and directed by David Alexander, Plato’s Stepchildren suffers from glacial pacing and a meandering plot. The extended sequences of Kirk, Spock, and Alexander being subjected to psychokinetic torture—forced to dance, grovel, and assault one another—stretch credulity and empathy. What begins as a critique of authoritarian sadism devolves into a voyeuristic endurance test for both characters and viewers. Matters worsen when Uhura and Chapel are dragged into the Platonians’ games, compelled to kiss Kirk and Spock under psychic coercion. The latter scene, in particular, treads into ethically murky territory. Spock’s relationship with Chapel had previously been framed as a tender, if awkward, subplot; here, their first physical intimacy is achieved through what can only be described as psychic rape. The episode’s attempt to juxtapose this with Kirk’s kiss—a consensual, if historic, act—only highlights its tonal incoherence.

Despite these missteps, Plato’s Stepchildren engages with weighty philosophical questions. The Platonians’ obsession with aesthetic and intellectual purity—achieved through eugenics and telekinesis—serves as a critique of societies that elevate elitism over empathy. Kirk’s impassioned speech about the Federation’s rejection of prejudice underscores Roddenberry’s humanist ethos, even if the dialogue veers into didacticism. Alexander’s arc, meanwhile, explores themes of marginalidation and resilience. As a dwarf denied psychokinetic powers, he embodies the Platonians’ hypocrisy: a society that claims to worship reason yet oppresses those who deviate from its narrow ideals of perfection. His eventual liberation—symbolized by his departure with the Enterprise crew—hints at the Federation’s promise of inclusivity, though the episode’s resolution feels rushed.

The episode’s third-season provenance is evident in its cost-cutting measures. Filmed on recycled sets from earlier episodes, Plato’s Stepchildren exemplifies the “bottle episode” phenomenon—a necessity born of budgetary limitations. The Platonians’ Grecian garb, while thematically apt, also served a practical purpose: draped robes required minimal tailoring and could be reused across episodes. Yet the production’s frugality extended to storytelling: the protracted scenes of psychic torment feel less like narrative daring and more like padding. A notable exception lies in William Ware Theiss’s costume design. By outfitting Kirk in a skimpy toga that exposed more skin than Uhura’s or Chapel’s uniforms, Theiss subtly subverted 1960s gender norms, challenging the era’s expectations of male authority figures as austere and fully clothed.

The cast rises to the occasion despite uneven material. Shatner and Nimoy, forced to perform out-of-character antics, navigate the absurdity with a mix of earnestness and wit. Nimoy, in particular, delivers a haunting rendition of his self-written ballad , a surreal moment that juxtaposes his vocal vulnerability with Spock’s usual stoicism. Shatner’s monologues, though occasionally bombastic, convey the episode’s core themes with Roddenberry-esque optimism. Michael Dunn, however, steals the show as Alexander. His performance—imbued with quiet dignity and biting wit—elevates the character beyond a stock tragic figure. Tragically, Dunn’s early death in 1973 robbed the industry of a nuanced actor who defied the era’s reductive portrayals of disability.

The episode’s conclusion attempts to reconcile its darker themes with Star Trek’s utopian vision. Rather than punishing the Platonians with violence, Kirk denies them their “toys”—Alexander and the Enterprise crew—leaving them to grapple with their isolation. This nonviolent resolution aligns with Roddenberry’s ideals, though it feels hastily tacked onto a story steeped in cruelty. The Platonians’ impending galactic pariah status serves as a moral rebuke, yet the episode never fully reckons with the trauma inflicted on its protagonists.

Plato’s Stepchildren is a flawed but fascinating artifact of Star Trek’s cultural mission. Its historic significance—the Kirk-Uhura kiss—cements its place in television history, while its narrative misfires and ethical ambiguities reveal the challenges of blending activism with entertainment. For casual viewers, it may be an episode to watch for its iconic moment and then forget. For scholars and fans, however, it encapsulates the paradox of Star Trek itself: a show that dared to imagine a better world, even as it wrestled with the limitations of its time and medium.

RATING: 5/10 (++)

Blog in Croatian https://draxblog.com
Blog in English https://draxreview.wordpress.com/
InLeo blog https://inleo.io/@drax.leo

LeoDex: https://leodex.io/?ref=drax
InLeo: https://inleo.io/signup?referral=drax.leo
Hiveonboard: https://hiveonboard.com?ref=drax
Rising Star game: https://www.risingstargame.com?referrer=drax
1Inch: https://1inch.exchange/#/r/0x83823d8CCB74F828148258BB4457642124b1328e

BTC donations: 1EWxiMiP6iiG9rger3NuUSd6HByaxQWafG
ETH donations: 0xB305F144323b99e6f8b1d66f5D7DE78B498C32A7
BCH donations: qpvxw0jax79lhmvlgcldkzpqanf03r9cjv8y6gtmk9

Posted Using INLEO